


oh, turpentine erase me whole

by newsagogo



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys: California (Comics)
Genre: Battery City, Better Living Industries, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:54:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29567820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newsagogo/pseuds/newsagogo
Summary: In earlier days of Battery City. An old love story. Two androids, and their lives.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	oh, turpentine erase me whole

**Author's Note:**

> pay no attention to the character death tag im sure its not important aha <3  
> also! [playlist!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5VZIbLDmWVwlY6B9tkZfuz?si=WxZRH9QdRx-bDxrRCWu0og)  
> but like if u listen to only one track on that playlist listen to the last one  
> also! title is from honeybee by steam powered giraffe

  
  


Battery City isn’t a kind place to be. Oh, sure, it’s secure and you will be safe in its walls but these are conditional. Obey the rules, don’t hide anything, pretend the watching doesn’t bother you. The city is peaceful because everyone accepts the facade as reality. Each year passes and the bindings around the populace are drawn tighter and tighter - easing the expression out of them. 

There’s an old study. An experiment, really. A few frogs, a pot of water, a heat source. Heat it up slowly enough and they won’t even realise you’re boiling them. Better Living applies this theory to cities.

But back to the City itself. It’s not a kind place, but it’s not actively cruel most days. It simply… is. Apathy reaches everywhere. Sometimes it’s easier not to care in the first place.

Once, the city was a little more caring. Once, it even had a little colour to it.

Once, there was an entertainment droid.

  
  


There are rules. Rules for any and everything you could think of. Restrictions less on what you could do, more on the extent of what you were doing. Down, down, in a sector that doesn’t exist anymore, was a stretch of social areas. Cafes, restaurants, meeting areas really. The specifics of the buildings doesn’t matter anymore - those types of places don’t exist for the general public now. But they did at some point. 

In one such establishment, there is live entertainment. Now, this isn’t live-live with humans involved. No, this is music provided by the scattering of androids in the staff. There is a small stage, off-centre on the back wall. This is by design - it wouldn’t do for passersby to be distracted, nor the attention of patrons to wander too close to the source of approved music. 

But the thing is. The thing _is_. This is a story from before the City truly decided to become ever-watchful. From when the only real consequences came from SCARECROW patrols who think you aren’t respectful enough to them. From when the issue came from getting caught, and your neighbours were more than willing to turn away - if they don’t witness something, what can they report?

There is a droid on stage, a favourite of many though none will ever admit to it (for their own safety, and hers). She sings, she plays, she entertains. Her sets start with Approved Tracks then fade into her own creations, her dreams into lyrics for the masses. And it is enchanting. It makes you think, makes you dream, hope. The people keep up the cover of conversation as they listen, and wonder at the images she paints them. The ‘Crows on shift look away, the music soothes them as much as any other. An older patron jokingly nicknames her as Orpheus, easier to say than a string of numbers, and it sticks. When she murmurs DESTROYA, well, if asked the people nearby were obviously more attentive to their own discussions than the strange glitches of a simple android. But often, she seems to focus on someone outside as she sings. Some of the music calling softly for someone to look her way.

This is, of course, mistake number one.

  
  


Did you know? Androids weren't always made to look so inhuman. Their bright colours weren't meant to provoke feelings of disgust. That isn't to say they ever looked human. Better Living may have been more lax back then, but they weren’t stupid.

So, there’s another android outside. There's nothing special about them. This isn't cruelty in retrospect - it's just fact. This droid was nothing special, could've been any other, but what makes them so unique was that they were in love. Their model wasn’t mass-produced, but they were one of dozens. Their looks weren’t eye-catching, but they were allowed a measure of customising that other makes didn’t often get. 

Under the guise of following coding, they linger outside the building as the droid on stage sings, tending to the greenery outside just a shade slower than usual. They listen to the visions in her words and hold them close as they can. In moments of bravery they will try and record enough to pass along to the others, the ones who work outside the area. And eventually, they will look up through the window, look towards the stage, and smile at a droid who has been playing half for the sake of it and half for them. A counterpart to the one on stage, Eurydice to their Orpheus.

There is very little in the way of true freedom in the city. Under the leaves of shrubs outside the windows, a droid finds a note with an address and time - and a “ _please_ ” scrawled underneath.

This can be thought of mistake number two, but - 

Later, much later, the two meet. They finally speak, and the love. A musician and her muse, in the blindspot of a watching city.

This, most definitely, is mistake number three.

  
  


There’s a few districts for housing androids. The Company doesn’t particularly care for how many are in each building, solely caring that they are away and out of sight and mind when they should be. And so it’s no real trouble for the two to meet and meet again, to move unseen and aided by their fellow droids. To speak and to slowly work their way into living in the same building. And as they go, they leave lasting impressions - the love between them warming the droids fresh from the factory lines and the ones closer to scrap. 

In the dark of the nights, in the middle of the days, whenever the two have their recharging scheduled together, the soft sounds of music and laughter are heard echoing in the halls. As outside an android hears the hope shared and scrawls it across a wall in an alleyway during a shift change and rushes away hoping no cameras have seen, as the one tries to lead the other in a simple tune while inside corroding bots pass the dreams of a saviour they hear in between the words sung in whispers between each other.

Oh, they aren’t safe. They aren’t truly together. But they’re as close as it gets in the City, and working to keep it as long as possible. The City isn’t kind, but here, in the space shared, they make it so.

This is, of course, another mistake.

  
  


Now, if you were to believe the advertising, you’d think that the City's more disposable workforce was built to last. And maybe at that start, this was true. But creating a workforce that doesn’t rely enough on you to have a comfortable way to control them isn’t good for Better Living, and so with each new iteration another failing is built into every model and make. Maybe watching their every movement isn’t possible, but you can ensure that no matter how far they try to wander, eventually they’ll have to come crawling back.

And poor Eurydice, poor dear Eurydice, whose love for the plants they cared for was rivaled by their care for their lover, they fell victim to such workings. 

Was it made better? The taking away of Eurydice? Was it a blessing that it happened in view of Orpheus? If you were to ask her, she would most certainly claim she took comfort that her knowledge was first-hand. But the horror of watching them be loaded up and carried away, knowing it was hours yet until you could leave, until she could follow after, is it worth it? Wouldn’t ignorance have been kinder than the lasting dread? She couldn’t say.

The specifics of the Virus in Eurydice’s system doesn’t matter, only that it froze their movements in such an unnatural way. Maybe it wasn’t even a Virus, maybe their timing was just off enough that an over-eager ‘Crow took advantage of an easy mark. Who can say?

The end result is the same. Eurydice fell, and Eurydice was taken away.

And Orpheus stood on that stage, watching, and performing. And while she played, she thought to herself. If she were to venture away into the underground workshops of the City where droids who malfunction or simply need a single replacement go, could she bring them back? Could she offer something of enough value? She knew her music had power. Nothing in comparison to the Company, but enough to turn people sympathetic, to feed them hope, to let them dream. She can use that, use their sympathy, use their pity. Dreams are a precious thing. 

It’s this dream of saving Eurydice that is her next mistake.

  
  
  


The social services are their own special hell. Stretching deep under the City, far from any natural light, it feels as though time warps and seconds last years and months are only days and the only thing keeping you going is your own desperation. But in those days, there was one perk to droid services. Humans manned the desks. And humans act so differently to androids.

Humans are very sentimental, about as much as they are cruel - this makes or breaks a droids petition. This is what Orpheus must rely on, for she cannot make her journey through the front in short enough time. She finds herself a scrap collector, one she recognizes as a patron. She begs him to carry her in with the load carried in his van, and he looks at her and hears remnants of songs that filled the afternoons. The man agrees, and Orpheus enters the area. 

When he docks in the delivery bay, she slips out of the back and makes her way further in. She passes by the heap of droid scraps, remains of those destroyed in the journey here. Word travels fast in any workforce, though, and she is unimpeded in her progress. People look away, focus on different camera feeds, all aware and forcibly unaware of the presence of this droid in the hallways. She feels the humming electricity, and follows its call down into the depths, down to where the one she loves lies.

There is a space kept aside for malfunctioning droids. It's used to take them apart when they collapse, to let the humans pry apart every piece to find out what failed first, and how. The lucky ones are already shut down when they reach here. Droids aren't known for their luck. Orpheus hums as she passes, the only measure of comfort she can give those still awake and waiting their dissembling on tables in countless rooms. As she hums, some of them find sleep that the engineers would never give them, and fall deep under it, under safety.

She pushes onwards. Her feet have dragged her to a final room, where eurydice lies unmoving. She throws open the door, throws herself onto the table, cradles Eurydice's head between her hands. She wasn't made to, but she cries in relief - she has found her love, and is determined to keep hold of her. She croons song after song of their shared time, of a caring saviour, of getting  _ out _ , and through it all Eurydice is gently roused from her sleep.

Neither had noticed the engineer or programmer coming back in, watching the two droids interact. The two humans had been deliberating, you see. The gardening droid had been brought in, yes, but they could be reused. Parts could be fixed, code could be replaced, they could be made into a wider caretaker droid for the city. But neither had ever considered the droids themselves as… people. Watching another droid rush in, and nearly collapse over the first, show such emotion and  _ sing _ for reasons that aren't purely according to programming - it touches them. They make themselves known.

Orpheus turns, sees these two humans, and begs them to let her take Eurydice home, let her care and fix her glitches, let her buy the plus needed, anything. And whether her words got through to them, as sympathy or just pity, the humans agree. There's no shortage of droids in the City, after all. 

But, of course, everything has a price in the City. Everyone does. She can take her love home, can do whatever she thinks will fix her, but she  _ cannot _ help them make the journey back. Eurydice must carry themself off property or not at all.

Orpheus and Eurydice, desperate and in love and (worst of all,) hopeful, agree.

Eurydice pulls themself up to stand, swaying ever so slightly, and the two begin their journey back. But they weren’t brought down this deep for repairs, and this shows on the long road back. Their legs freeze up, seemingly at random, and it leaves them stationary for minutes at a time. Orpheus hovers around them the entire time. She cannot offer herself as support, cannot soothe the joints back into function, cannot touch them in any way until they are out, and the two of them are so far underground. It feels further and further with every moment spent waiting. They pass cameras, and with each one they feel the weight of the Company’s gaze upon them. They pass back through corridors filled with rooms of droids stuck in their own purgatories, back up the stairs and round the corners of the maze that a devoted musician had navigated for the simple dream of her love. She does her best to sing the walk out and her voice starts to fail her, but that’s alright - where she hesitates, there is Eurydice, willing to sing back to her all the hopes they have.

It’s slow going. They weren’t given a time limit, but there’s a sense of urgency anyways. The sooner out the better. They are being watched, judged, but they are determined. Despite how difficult it is to hold on to their hope, they persist.

But finally, _finally_ , there are windows. The harsh artificial light of countless hallways gives way to softer light from windows. Orpheus leads Eurydice out through a side entrance, and into the night of the City. How long were they down there? It doesn’t matter. They’ve made it outside, scratched circuitry and all. The City isn’t kind, but in that moment the open air is greatest gift to be had.

Orpheus spins in place, joyous that she made it, that the two of them are out, and Eurydice pushes through the locking of her joints and throws themself at Orpheus and the two embrace and this, this here, is the final mistake. Because outside the building does not mean outside the property. And as Eurydice holds her, suddenly, they can’t move at all. The dread settles, and they know what is about to happen. Orpheus feels heat, sees sparks from them. Eurydice shoves them back, and Orpheus falls backwards, just out of property lines, and Eurydice is terminated.

Orpheus stays where she’s fallen, staring at the burnt-out husk for a long time. Until the smell of the ozone is long gone. 

She doesn’t remember leaving.

She is home, but it isn’t home with just her. All she knows is that she has failed. She sits in the dark of her once-shared room, and stares at the repair kits and Plus piled on the selves. All useless now, she supposes.

When it's time for her to go out to her programmed shift, she goes. She stands on the little stage, off centered in the back, staring through a window for someone who won’t come, and doesn’t play. Her instruments are pressed into her hands, and they are loosely held for the duration of her shift, unmoving, and no music is heard.

She doesn’t sing anymore. Barely speaks, even. She is slated for reprogramming and reconstruction. She can feel the warnings in the static. But she will not go. The last kindness she ever receives is at the hands of her fellow droids, who ask her for one last song (one last chance to back out of this). She refuses. This choice is hers, and it is final. She will not sing again, but by now enough of her songs have been written over signs and walls that her voice won’t need to be heard, really. Orpheus closes her eyes.

As they tear apart her wires and break her circuits, she smiles through the pain. She will be left as scrap, and unsalvageable. They will _never_ be able to recycle her. At least in this way, she can be sure to end up in the same place that Eurydice will, equally destroyed as they were.

**Author's Note:**

> haha what if we fell in love... in a way not disimilar to that of a greek myth... and we were both droids  
> yes this fic was made at least mostly with the purpose of Getting jordan hi jordan if ur there i hatecrimed myself in course of writing this actually


End file.
